


Creature Comforts

by Bunney



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-24
Updated: 2013-01-24
Packaged: 2017-11-26 16:47:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/652364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bunney/pseuds/Bunney
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hermione finds an injured transfigured Draco and nurses him back to health.  Contains elements of bestiality.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Creature Comforts

Snow was falling thick and heavy in the Scottish Highlands, a frigid wind blowing over the mountains and around the ancient edifice that was Hogwarts Castle. Winter had come early this year, fast on the heels of Voldemort's defeat in early October. Too many had died in the violent war that had exploded upon the wizarding world immediately after the murder of Hogwarts' controversial, yet beloved headmaster, Albus Dumbledore. It only seemed appropriate that the weather turn harsh and unforgiving, swooping in from the North Sea, as so many mourned the loss of family and friends.

Crossing from one end of the courtyard to the other, Hermione Granger huddled deeper inside her warm cloak and bowed her head against the sleet lashing at her skin. The distance was short, but the howling wind buffeted her body as she fought to keep her balance, already compromised by the heavy bookbag hanging from her shoulders. She'd left Harry and Ron in the Great Hall, drowsy over the remnants of the evening meal, with the intention of returning to the library for a study session.

Despite Harry's earlier resolve to not return to Hogwarts, he'd capitulated to Hermione's impassioned pleading, much to her relief. She really had not wanted to miss her last year, even though she'd promised Harry and Ron to go wherever they went. Thankfully, Voldemort's impatience to defeat Harry had worked against him; they'd met in Godric's Hollow, in the very place where Lily and James Potter had sacrificed their lives so that their son might live. In that sacred place, Harry cast the Killing Curse against Voldemort, his power amplified by the love his mother had imbued within him and the Dark Lord hadn't stood a chance against it. Once he'd fallen, his followers, the Death Eaters, had been easily found and captured.

School started late, not until well into October. Many students didn't return at all, for they had gone on to other magical institutions, some at their parents' insistence, some of their own free will. As it was, Hogwarts stood at less than half capacity, giving the castle both an intimacy that Hermione had never realized in her previous six years as a student, yet a strange, lonely feel that saddened her with memories of what had gone before.

The sun had already slipped behind the white-topped mountains and the sky taken on a gloomy cast that promised harsher weather before morning. Christmas was but days away and she was thankful she'd already finished her shopping in Hogsmeade earlier in the week, before the grounds were coated in huge mounds of snow and the weather turned icy. 

Stepping into the welcome warmth of the torch-lit corridor, Hermione shook the snow off her cloak and out of her curls, stopping before a cheerfully-blazing fireplace to warm her mittened hands. 

Over the crackle of the flames, she heard a tiny sound; a scrabble of claws on stone and the whimper of something live. Unfazed, Hermione glanced behind her. The castle was home to quite a few cats, her own Crookshanks among them, along with a variety of other animals, so she was unsurprised to hear the sounds of one in the shadows. 

Another distressed whimper reached her ears and she turned fully around, searching the darkness for the creature who made it. "Hello?" she called, keeping her voice soft and soothing. Setting down her bookbag, she knelt on the cold stone, pulling off one mitten so that she could wiggle her fingers invitingly. "I won't hurt you. Come here."

A small, hunched figure crept out from behind the shelter of a pillar and Hermione gasped. The animal, a ferret, cringed at the sound and shivered violently. It edged closer, staring up at her with crystalline eyes so familiar, she clapped a hand to her mouth in shock. "Oh, Malfoy...what happened to you?" she whispered in dismay.

To nearly everyone's surprise, Headmistress McGonagall had personally invited Draco Malfoy to return to Hogwarts to finish his education. After Harry had offered testimony clearing Draco's name of the murder of Dumbledore and proving, through his Pensieve memories of the event, that Draco was under severe duress by Voldemort, Professor McGonagall had convened the remaining faculty of the school and asked for their input. To the last professor, they voted unanimously to readmit the young man, wishing to offer him the chance to rebuild his shattered life. Initially suspicious of their motives, Draco and his mother had turned down their offer and continued with plans to send him to Durmstrang, but in a move that left the students and professors alike speechless, Harry Potter had met with Draco in secret and after a summit that many would've given an arm or a leg to have been privy to, Draco agreed to return for his last year.

Slytherin House hadn't been as welcoming as the rest of the school, however; Draco was ostracized from his classmates, in both the Great Hall and in classes and gradually, the once-proud and arrogant aristocrat had withdrawn into himself until it became easy to forget he was even in the room, much less in the school at all. Still, his presence amongst the Slytherins left him vulnerable to attack and only Draco's quick reflexes and strong survival instinct kept him safe from their retaliation.

This was not one of those times.

"Oh, Draco, look at you!" Hermione cried, shocked at the state of the silvery white animal. Which wasn't as pure a white as she knew it should be. Once before, Draco had been turned into a ferret, by Barty Crouch, Jr. in disguise as former Auror Mad-Eye Moody, when the student had pulled his wand during a confrontation with Harry. That time, Hermione had been both shocked and amazed by the lovely animal he'd become; snowy white fur had contrasted beautifully with Malfoy's pale silver eyes. He'd been mistreated horribly that day by the imposter professor and she'd heard through the grapevine that he'd even suffered a broken arm and other injuries from the experience, although Ron had brushed aside her concerns for Draco in his glee at the unexpected treat of seeing his enemy so humiliated.

Now, Draco was anything but white. His fur was matted with mud and filthy clumps of snow that had melted and refrozen until it dragged the floor and hampered his movement. As he drew closer, she could see streaks of clotted blood on his paws and around one of his tiny ears. Hermione, always tenderhearted when it came to the misfortune of others, found her heart breaking for the debased little creature and the man she knew still dwelled within. Drawing out her wand, she pointed it at the shaking animal. " _Finite incantatem_ ," she said softly, frowning when the spell didn't automatically end the transfiguration. She tried again and he was enveloped in the glimmering sparks of the counter-spell. "That's strange. What did they _do_ to you?"

Draco looked up at her and for a moment, Hermione imagined that she saw his pink nose twitch in scorn. Slipping off her cloak, she lay it out so that he could pull himself painfully onto it. He was shaking so hard that Hermione could hear his teeth rattling together. As she wrapped him securely in the warm wool and gathered him close, she could feel the rapid patter of his tiny heart against her breast. Draco was quite clearly terrified and in pain and Hermione wasn't sure exactly what her next move should be. 

"How on earth did this happen, Malfoy? And why can't the spell be ended?" Hermione murmured to herself as she held him close with one arm and reshouldered her bookbag. "I suppose I should take you to Professor Slughorn, he would know...oh!"

With what was obviously a petrified squeak, the ferret began wriggling wildly in her arms, struggling to tear himself free. Ducking into the darkened shelter of an empty classroom, Hermione cuddled the squirming bundle close, crooning softly. 

"There...there, shhhh, it's okay, we don't have to do that. Shhh, stop _squirming_ , Malfoy, you're going to fall!"

Before she could catch him, he did indeed fall out of the cloak, landing on his injured and bleeding paws. With a tiny shriek, he collapsed into a shivering puddle. Hermione fell to her knees beside him, carefully scooping his limp body in her arms. Weakly, he looked up at her, with silvery eyes as frightened as she'd ever seen them. Hermione couldn't stop the tears that seeped down her cheeks.

"It's going to be fine...will you let me treat your injuries?" When he didn't renew his desperate struggle, she took that for an affirmative answer and rewrapped him in the cloak. With a weak little snuffle, Draco snuggled into the heat of her shoulder, his eyes closing tiredly.

With concern for her transfigured classmate's health uppermost in her mind, Hermione returned to the Gryffindor dorms and the warmth and safety of her room.

*****

Parvati Patil and her twin sister Padma had not returned for their seventh and final year at Hogwarts, which left Hermione sharing a dorm with one person, Lavender Brown. To Hermione's great relief, Lavender had left for the holidays, leaving the other girl to enjoy having a room to herself for two weeks.

After wrapping Malfoy in a quilt and settling him in the middle of her bed, Hermione filled a large bowl with warm, soapy water and brought it back in the room with several fluffy towels and a tube of antibiotic cream her mother always insisted on tucking into her trunk. She'd have preferred to have something from the infirmary, but didn't dare leave Malfoy alone. He was truly injured, but she still wasn't sure she trusted him to not be playing her for a fool. She doubted it, but after six years of mistreatment by the very student cuddled on her bed, it never hurt to be sure.

"Here we go...have you warmed up yet? It's so terribly cold today and I can't _believe_ someone would do this to you, Malfoy! What'd they do, throw you out the window?" she said in agitation, soaking a washcloth in the water. When his gaze didn't flicker from hers, Hermione felt her heart drop to her toes. "Oh my God! They did! Malfoy, you could've been _killed_!" 

He cocked his head to one side, giving her a contemptuous look that was as easily read as it would've been on his human face. Hermione huffed softly. "Don't look at me like that. I don't throw my friends out of castle windows," she said snippily. When the pointed little face fell, she sighed and reached out to touch his snout. He jerked back with a growl, curling up so that his back was to her. "Now, don't be like that, Malfoy. I'm trying to help you. I'm sorry, okay? I shouldn't have said anything so hurtful."

Draco sniffed, licking weakly at one bloody paw. With a whimpering squeak, he lay his head on the quilt, rolling to the side to watch Hermione through narrowed eyes. Removing her wand from her pocket, the witch waved it over his body, searching for any broken bones; to her relief, there were none, but he had several cuts and abrasions, some nasty bruises, and one ear was torn open, accounting for the blood still oozing out onto the white fur.

"What would you prefer? For me to wash you or would you rather get in the bowl?" Hermione asked as she spread out several of the towels and cast a warming charm on them. When she turned around, Draco had rolled over on his back, his furry belly turned up and his curved little legs splayed wide, displaying the fur-covered bump of his genitals. Hermione flushed red.

"Malfoy! You're just foul! Behave yourself or I'll make you sleep on the floor!" she snipped, blushing anew as she could have sworn he smirked at her! "Honestly!"

Rolling over stiffly, he crawled into her lap, then slipped into the bowl of steaming water, curling up in it and sloshing some into her lap. Ignoring the wet spot soaking through her skirt and tights, Hermione lifted the washcloth and drew it over Draco's matted fur, gently working it into a floral-scented lather. It took three bowls of clean water to wash away the combined mud, ice, and blood and afterward, he curled up on the quilt while Hermione aimed a soft jet of balmy air from the tip of her wand to dry his fur. 

"There you go...clean and...well...you _do_ smell kind of strange, but don't get mad!" Hermione said, laughing, as his head popped up off the quilt. He glared at her for a moment, then settled back down while she took each of his little paws in her hand, gently applying the antibiotic cream to the scraped and frostbitten flesh. She repeated the move on his ear, stoically bearing a sharp nip to her thumb when the pain became too great for him. 

When she was done tending him, Hermione was shocked to find Draco was quite the affectionate little creature. He licked her thumb where he had bitten her, rubbing his nose along the palm of her hand. Squeaking softly, he dragged the quilt over to her and nudged her knee with the top of his head, giving her a meaningful look.

Realizing he was wanting to sleep, Hermione returned the bowl and wet towels to the bathroom and quickly dressed for bed. Climbing back on the four-poster bed, she drew the curtains partially shut and settled beneath the covers. She formed the quilt and an extra pillow into a little nest for Draco, while he perched on his back legs, watching her with what she could've sworn was a critical eye, offering instruction in a series of squeaks and squeals.

When the quilt was arranged to his satisfaction, Draco crawled back into it and curled into a ball, his tail wrapping around his body. He lay his head against his paws and watched Hermione as she deftly braided her brown curls into two long plaits. Relaxing into the warmth of the quilt, he closed his eyes. Within moments, he slept.

Hermione lay down and watched the small animal...watched _Draco_...sleep. Drawing the back of her hand along the curved line of his back, she smiled. He really _was_ a very pretty ferret.

*****

Draco had never been this close to Hermione Granger before. He blinked lazily in the near-dark room, illuminated only by the soft glow of the fireplace filtering from behind the heavy bed drapes. Once the Gryffindor witch had fallen asleep, her breathing slowing and evening out, he edged closer to her, eager for the warmth her body offered. She'd stirred restlessly as he pressed against the fragrant curve of her neck, his nose and whiskers tickling her chin. She smelled so good...like flowers and parchment and India ink, with an underlying muskiness the animal recognized as _female_. 

Despite the soreness in his body and the murder in his heart for the former friends who had treated him so grievously, Draco was supremely content. He'd found himself intrigued with Hermione this year, fascinated by her capacity for forgiveness, when those he'd once considered friends, Blaise and Vince and Greg, had turned their backs on him in the most vicious way possible. When she'd suggested taking him to his Head of House, she couldn't have known that he'd not been in the Slytherin dorms since the beginning of term and had, in fact, been sleeping in the abandoned Astronomy Tower, the site of his most dishonorable moment. He rarely took meals with his house, preferring instead to visit the kitchens and eating the delectable snacks a newly-trustful Dobby would insist on fixing for him. 

Draco's self-imposed isolation had given him time to think...to think and to practice becoming an Animagus. The irony of his Animagus form being a ferret was not lost on him and instead of letting it deter him, he used the pain of that memory from his fourth year to empower the magic he needed to master the form. Hermione had thought he was turned into a ferret against his will, when in fact Blaise and Vince had found him in his Animagus form and used that perceived weakness to hurt him. 

When they'd finally thrown him, already battered and bruised, out of the third story window, Draco was certain he was a dead man. Dead ferret. Instead, the heavy snowfall had worked in his favor and he'd landed in a deep snow bank where he'd lain, exhausted and in great pain, for most of the day. When he'd tried to revert to his human form, he found that he was too weak to do so, as he still was. But, he was confident that, by morning, he'd be able to return to his familiar human self.

And never again would he allow Zabini to get the drop on him. _Never_.

Shaking off the burgeoning fury, Draco returned his gaze to Hermione, finding that watching her settled his nerves and eased the pain in his heart. She was pretty. _Really_ pretty. He wasn't sure when it had happened, but sometime in the last couple of years, she'd blossomed into a lovely woman. In the flickering firelight, he could see the cinnamon spray of freckles across her nose and cheeks and he wondered if they'd taste as sweet as the spice they resembled. Spotting one on the curve of her jaw, he inched closer and pressed his tongue to it. Mmmm...she tasted good, he decided, not only sweet, but salty and tart and honeyed, all at the same time. 

His paws were still tender, despite the Muggle concoction she'd rubbed on them, but it didn't deter Draco from crawling closer, from seeking the warmth of her breasts. _These_ he had noticed. From about third year on, the progression of Hermione Granger's young body, from slender and flat to plush, soft curves, was unmistakable. He remembered with a twinge of regret sitting with his friends and mocking her for her budding breasts and swelling hips, enjoying the embarrassment that would bloom in her cheeks as she'd clutch her robes around herself and stalk off.

Now, he was up close and personal with the object of his earlier scorn and was he ever thankful for it! Never had he felt anything as soft as Hermione's skin. She was wearing a long flannel gown that buttoned down the front, but with a neckline low enough that he could see the deep shadow of her cleavage; her heat drew him closer, until he was almost near enough to poke his snout into that damp valley. The scent of her was stronger here, moist and sweet and it was all he could do to not fall on her and lick her from head to toe. With a wry inner grin, Draco imagined Hermione's good will would abruptly disappear were she to awake and find his ferret self rutting atop her. 

Again, he tried to will himself back to his human self, but his magic was still at a wane, injury and weakness preventing him from summoning the concentration needed to complete the transfiguration. With a sigh, he settled against Hermione's breast, his head nestled into the hollow of her throat. He could feel her heartbeat beneath his breastbone, each gentle rise and fall of her chest against his sore paws soothing to him. Nuzzling deeper against her, Draco worked his back paws and tail into the neckline of her gown, careful to not scratch her with his claws, until he lay between her breasts. Grunting in satisfaction, he lazily drew his tongue along the pulse beating in her throat. Liking the taste of her skin, he did it again and again, teasing her with the point of it, drawing circles and figure-8's and tiny magical runes.

Draco was certain he'd never been as comfortable in his entire life as he was now. With a soft huff, Hermione lifted one hand to curl over his back, her fingers sinking into the silky white fur. Startled, Draco lifted his head, to see if she was awake, but she merely smiled sweetly in her sleep and he settled back down.

Careful of his claws, he gently touched the swell of her breast, brushing her skin with the tufted pads and wishing it were his own fingers smoothing over the silken expanse. He snorted softly to himself. If he was his human self, it was damn near a certainty that he'd be nowhere near the Gryffindor witch's bed, much less her breasts. She had pity for him, compassion for him, but he was under no illusions that she _liked_ him. As soon as morning came and she was satisfied that Draco was well-healed and was able to return to human form, he'd be sent on his way.

In a way, that made him sad. How much of his life he'd squandered and all for a half-breed creature who had given up his own human form in the pursuit of purity. The memory of the path he'd nearly been lost on was enough to bring tears to Draco's eyes. The tiny, salty drops fell on Hermione's skin and he slowly licked them away, tasting sorrow in every one of them.

"Are you crying?" came Hermione's sleep-slurred voice as she stroked his fur gently. Draco froze, embarrassed at being caught in such an awkward position. He looked up at her, only to find her gazing down at him drowsily, a smile curving her lush, pink mouth. He nudged his snout against her throat, rolling his head playfully, squeaking in pain when his injured ear pressed backwards. 

"Ooooh, don't hurt yourself," Hermione whispered, sinking deeper under the covers, not realizing or perhaps not minding that he was halfway inside her gown, in intimate contact with her body. "You're so soft, Draco, silky-soft."

He growled his displeasure at the feminine endearment deep in his throat, nipping at her skin, but not too hard. He wouldn't dream of injuring that sweet bed on which he was indolently laid. Hermione giggled and scratched him behind the ears. Oh, there...that was nice. Draco's eyes slipped closed as her fingers worked magic on his scalp and back. He arched up as she moved farther down, until she was stroking his tail. He swished it back and forth, brushing over the tips of her breasts and bringing a gasp to her lips. Slowly, he did it again, allowing the end to tease her nipples into instant awareness. Draco looked up at her, cocking his head to the side as if to ask her permission.

Hermione reached up and unbuttoned the first few buttons on her gown, allowing it to fall open. Draco shivered all over as he realized the liberties she was offering him. Padding forward, he pressed his snout to her nose, breathing in her exhalations for a moment, before letting his tongue dart out to taste her lips. Hermione moaned sleepily and cupped his head in one hand, pressing soft kisses to his furry face. 

Given what he considered carte blanche, Draco moved slowly, sinuously, over her body; he wanted to taste every inch of Hermione, to see if the tender, blue-veined skin behind her left ear tasted as good as the puckered, rosy flesh of her nipples. He wanted to know if she smelled as good between her thighs as she did beneath her breasts. It was sensory overload and he had to pause several times to allow the instinctual reaction of his ferret form to relax. When he finally curled his long, pink tongue around one nipple, his sharp teeth barely scraping the flesh, Hermione cried out in surprise. He repeated the action, closing his eyes blissfully as he suckled at each hard, peaked nipple in turn, until they were hot and throbbing against his tongue.

Reaching the buttoned edge of the gown, Draco nudged beneath it, his supple body slipping inside easily. Hermione lifted her bum and pulled the gown off, kicking the covers away as she did. Draco purred his appreciation and lifted his head to take his first look at her body. So pretty, she was, so warm and golden and deliciously formed; her small, but full breasts curved down into a rounded and womanly tummy. Her legs were long and sleek, and as he moved farther down her body, licking and nipping at her tummy, dipping his tongue into her navel, they fell open, baring the shadowed cleft between her thighs. 

Draco's excitement was impossible to hide; he was panting softly and his belly felt heavy and quivery, his testicles almost aching with the primal urge to mate. He slithered over Hermione's tummy, his paws kneading anxiously at the winter-pale and pliant flesh. Her hand was trailing smoothly over his back and tail, urging him on with breathless whispers which sounded darker and more sinful than any he'd ever imagined could come from her mouth. Draco briefly wondered if Hermione entertained thoughts like this often and he brushed off the fancy, preferring to think that it was _him_ she wanted, ferret and human both.

With a last, delicate lick to her stomach, Draco slid between her legs, wedging his body into the raised pyramid of her thighs. Her scent was breathtaking here; rich and fertile, overpowering even the flowery remnants of her morning bath. Draco crawled forward, wanting nothing more than to bury himself inside her, but willing to settle for a long, leisurely sampling of the glistening lubrication beginning to coat the fine hairs covering her mound. 

Pressing his pink nose against the darker pink of her labia, he nearly swooned from the intoxicating heat of her. He drew back when she flinched, then moved forward again on her breathless moan, nosing through the neat thicket of hair until he was greeted with tart, slippery flesh. In response to the gentle laving he gave her with the flat of his little tongue, Hermione's thighs fell open wider, her fingers brushing against his head as she parted her lips so that he could have easier access to her.

"Draco, please..." she whispered in the dark, praying to the canopy even as she flexed her thighs against his slim, writhing form. Planting his paws on either side of her cunt, Draco nibbled deeper, tasting the very heart of her like a sweet, summer wine; hot and honeyed on his mouth and filling his senses with the proof of her femininity. While Hermione cries took on a more feverish tone, Draco curled his tongue around the tender bud at the apex of her cunt, again and again as she arched her hips off the bed, nearly dislodging him from his feast.

In punishment, Draco nipped sharply at her inner thigh, then rubbed his moist nose against the tiny wound. He returned to her cunt, drawn mindlessly back to her shimmering flesh. He cleaned her of all traces of fluid, only to find more seeping out of her to soak his paws and slake his thirst. Wishing again that he could take her in his human arms and fill her empty core, Draco nudged his nose against her vagina, licking the edges of the tiny opening with the tip of his tongue, before sliding it inside to lavish her clenching, inner walls.

Hermione came apart, fisting the sheets so tightly that they came untucked from beneath the mattress. Her cries were incoherent and frantic as she spread her legs as far apart as she could; Draco took advantage of the extra space and curled his body tightly against her cunt, lapping eagerly at her newly-drenched folds. The fine, white fur of his face was slicked down with her moisture and his ears laid back in the attempt to get as close to her as he could. He drew his tongue slowly from her clit to her arse, his eyes rolling back in ecstasy as he experienced the difference in her taste and texture. The feel of his tongue dancing along the small bridge of flesh separating her cunt from her arse sent her into another climax and Draco quickly darted forward, so that he could feel the heated pulse of her against his face.

"Oh god oh god oh _god_ , Draco...I wish...god, I wish I could have you too..." Hermione whimpered above him and Draco's heart leapt with the promise in her voice. Shaking himself, he crawled back up her body until they were nose to nose. Hermione's face was beaded with sweat and she smiled at him as she cuddled him close, her hand slipping beneath his belly to gently fondle his tight, aching sac. If a ferret could blush, he would've done so as he gracelessly humped her hand, seeking the relief that continued to elude him.

Hermione kissed his pointed snout, then his injured ear, pausing to murmur softly, "I need you, Draco..."

Her sweetly-spoken words galvanized his body and his magic. He closed his eyes and concentrated not only on regaining his human form, but of fulfilling Hermione's whispered desire. With a final, triumphant squeak, Draco felt his body lengthen, broaden, the fur retract only to be replaced by sleek, pale flesh. As his face morphed back into the familiar visage of Draco Malfoy, Hermione gazed up at him in shock. "You...you're an Animagus!"

Draco shook himself to purge the last of his ferret form, finding himself crouching nude over Hermione's body. Before she could give over to the sudden anger beginning to burn in her dark eyes, he leaned forward and licked her jaw, tracing a path to her mouth. "I need you, too, Hermione. Please don't turn me away," he whispered, seconds before taking her lips with his, sliding his tongue fluidly against hers.

Hermione lay still beneath him for several heart stopping moments, but when first her arms, then her legs came around him, Draco knew he'd found his mate. With a smile and soft squeak in her ear, he claimed her.

~fin~

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to Livejournal October 2005.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [The injured ferret](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10555774) by [Angelamore](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angelamore/pseuds/Angelamore)




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